


the stuff of dreams

by summoner_yuna_of_besaid



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Final Fantasy X
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3259982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summoner_yuna_of_besaid/pseuds/summoner_yuna_of_besaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas wanders into a strange place in the fade, and meets a little boy with a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the stuff of dreams

Perhaps he wandered too far into the dreams; perhaps, not far enough.  Somehow he’d slipped through a crack, tumbled into a tumultuous storm that swept him away and left him quaking upon the shore of some far flung fantasy.  He’d never seen this place.  It tasted electric, shone with a bright blue hue and was surrounded on all sides by water, in fact it was full of it, streets like rivers running beneath towering silver structures.

It was… strange.  Something about this dream was different, more… solid.  Standing, Solas began walking down the dock, eyes lifting to examine the transparent images floating in the night sky.  Lights shone from above, making the city as bright as day despite the late hour.  It was like nothing he’d ever seen.

And there were living people here, humans all, wandering the bright city in strange clothes.  Bare midriffs, cover heads and eyes, looking at him as if he didn’t belong.  But it was this city which did not belong, this strange place on the outskirts of the Fade that made no sense.

“Oof!”  Solas glanced down; a blond mop of hair entered his vision, followed by two sky-blue eyes.  “Sorry, sir!”  The boy, barely four or five, blinked at him and blushed shyly.  Then, he tried to run round him, but Solas caught his shoulder and held him still.

“Come back here, brat!” 

At the voice, the boy stiffened, a hitch of breath breaking his silence.  Solas glanced up.  A tall form was making his way through the crowd, to the oohs and ahhs of those around them.  Clearly they knew this man, and the man himself was giving a sly smirk and waving in that condescending way that made the elf’s stomach twist.

“Hey, thanks, man.”  The stranger began, hands on his hips, before looking Solas over completely.  “Whoa.  Not from around here, are ya?  What’re you, a wandering hobo or something?”

“I – “  He had no real response to that, and honestly, couldn’t quite refute it.  “Do you know this boy?”

“You really aren’t from around here.”  The man laughed.  “The boy’s my son, Tidus, and my name’s Jecht.”

“And what’s he done to merit this?”

“You always get in the middle of family business?”  Jecht sighed.  “Eh, whatever.  The boy’ll come home.  This is too much damn trouble…”  With that, the man sighed and began sauntering away, and was immediately beset upon by his fans.

Solas took a moment to glower at the scene, before turning his attention to more important matters.  “Are you alright?”  He asked the boy.

 The child, Tidus, looked up at him with wide awed eyes.  “Uh, yeah.  I’m okay.”  A small smile came to his face.  “Thanks, mister…”

“Solas.”  Kneeling, he came to eye level with Tidus.  “Why were you running from your father?”

The boy’s look went moody and sour.  He kicked at the ground.  “Cause he’s a jerk.”

“I won’t dispute that,” Solas chuckled.  “But perhaps you have a more concrete answer?”

Glancing askance at him, Tidus shuffled his feet.  “… he was making fun of my dream.”  Eyes a little wet, his voice hitched.  “He’s a famous blitzball player around here – but I’m gonna be a better player than he ever was!  No matter what!  But Dad just laughs at me.  He says dreams aren’t worth shit, that all that matters is what you really do.  And that all I ever do is cry.”  Sniffling, the boy wiped at his eyes.  “I’m not a crybaby – I’m not!” 

Solas listened patiently to the boy, eyes narrowing in concern.  He thought carefully for a moment.  “Tidus,” he began.  “Would you come with me for a moment?”  The mage extended his hand.  Tidus examined it warily, glancing up to his eyes.  “Just down to that dock there, out of the way.  I have something to show you.”

Eventually, the boy nodded, and took Solas’s hand in his own chubby fingers.  His grip felt too real, too solid to be in the Fade… and yet, he knew he was still dreaming, he could feel it.

They walked down to the pier, and Solas let go of the boy’s hand and stepped away.  Taking his staff, he began weaving a spell, working magic in the air.  He could tell from the boy’s gasp that he’d never seen such a thing.  What a strange place…

“What are you doing?”  Tidus ran up beside him, eyes alight with wonder.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”  Solas told him, feeling a little of his own youthful wonder, so long dimmed, being rekindled by the boy’s enthusiasm.  “Where I am from, we call it magic.”

“How does it work?”  He asked.  “Does it run on electricity?”

“I… no.”  The man continued.  “It is powered by dreams.”  Shocked eyes moved to look up to the elf.  “My dreams, in fact.  I draw power from them, I believe in them, and in doing so I can create anything.  My potential is limitless.”  He twisted his left hand and twirled the staff.  The boy, taken by surprise, jumped back as fire flared to life in the air, and he made it swirl and dance. 

Childish laughter brought a grin to Solas’s face.  “That’s so cool!  I wish I could do that!”  Tidus punched the air.  “Then I’d make a fireball and throw it in my dad’s face!”

“Would it not be better to prove him wrong, by making your dreams real?”  The boy’s eyes dimmed, a nervous glimmer in them. 

“What if I can’t?”  He whispered.

“But you can.”  The fires died down, and Solas knelt again.  “Dreams can do anything; in dreams, we are free to imagine, to create, to do whatever we set our minds to.  This is your dream, Tidus,” The man told him, hand on his little shoulder.  “It can be whatever you want it to be.”

A big grin spread across the boy’s face.  “I – I will.  I’ll prove him wrong, I promise.”  Backing away, the boy kept grinning, before turning and running off.  “Thank you!”  On the main street, Solas saw the father's silhouette. He'd felt the man's eyes upon him the whole time, never once looking away, though never coming closer.  As the boy ran up to him, waving his little fists and stomping his feet, Solas watched as Jecht laughed, hands on his hips, and the boy grew angry. And yet... it was not a malicious laugh. _So the man cares after all._

Solas stood.  He watched him as the scene began to shimmer with the light of the Fade, and suddenly perceived the whole place shimmer translucently in much the same way.  Real, yet not… a dream, rooted in memory.  

“You should not stay here,” A little boy in a purple cloak and hood appeared near him, shimmering with a bright light, both there, and not.

“No,” Solas murmured.  “I do not belong here.”  He turned his gaze to the spirit, whose hidden gaze had the penetrative power of a dragon’s stare.  Slowly, hesitantly, he turned to go, taking in the sight of the strange city while he could.  “The boy…”  He started, stopping for a moment.  “His dream…”

“He will dream for a while longer.”  The spirit said.  “One day, he will wake, and perhaps finally our dream will end.  But now, he is a dream, and he is dreaming.”

“Hmm, that's unfortunate,” Solas whispered as he faded away, as his mind was pulled into the distant reality of his own world.  “It would be better were he to never wake at all."


End file.
